Quotes About Perfection

Já se disse até que o mais alto louvor a Deus reside na negação do ateu, que considera a Criação tão perfeita que dispensa um criador.

An artist has no need to express his thought directly in a work for the work to reflect its quality; it has even been said the highest praise of God is to be found in the denial of him by the atheist, who considers creation to be perfect enough to dispense with a creator.

The sort of thing people call little masterpieces, trifles that are perfect gems, in fact what I loathe most in the world. The

An artist has no need to express his thought directly in a work for the work to reflect its quality; it has even been said that the highest praise of God is to be found in the denial of Him by the atheist, who considers creation to be perfect enough to dispense with a Creator.

And even in my most carnal desires, orientated always in a particular direction, concentrated round a single dream, I might have recognised as their primary motive an idea, an idea for which I would have laid down my life, at the innermost core of which, as in my day-dreams while I sat reading all afternoon in the garden at Combray, lay the notion of perfection.

praise of God consists in the denial of him by the atheist who finds creation so perfect that it can dispense with a creator. And I was well aware, too, that it was not merely a work of art

La giornata era bellissima, smaltata e netta. Niente pareva lasciato al caso: punte e spigoli, tetti e antenne, grondaie e comignoli, apici d'abete e cime imbiancate. Come in una tavola fiamminga l'acuto sovrastava qualunque possibile rotondità. E pareva consigliasse di mirare in alto verso il turchese compatto del cielo, senza un sole che potesse sbiadirlo, né un volo d'uccello che potesse macchiarlo.

Love last one single perfect moment; the rest is merely reminiscence of what has already happened, but the single moment can be enough to make sense of more than one life.

Africa has produced countless numbers of men and women, in war and in peace, whose lustre and bravery outshine that of any other people. Then why not see good and perfection in ourselves?

It's like tossing a dart," he'd said. "There's nothing amazing about it. You throw and it sticks somewhere. But if you try and backtrack every factor that led there, the force of the throw and the angle and the air resistance, all of it had to be perfect, just exactly right, for it to end up where it did.

In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it.

If a life can be ruined in a single moment, a moment of betrayal, or violence, or ill luck, then why can a life not also be saved, be worth living, be made, by just a few pure moments of perfection?

Nothing quite new is perfect.

So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.

Practise make it perfect!

If you had a smattering of education you would realize that perfection of form can give validity to any sentiment, however preposterous.

Edith's mother used to say, 'An immaculate home is a sign of a misspent life.

O Soul touched of God, dissevered from sin, in the first estate of grace, ascend by divine grace into the seventh estate of grace, where the soul hath her fullhead of perfection by divine fruition in life of peace. And among you, actives and contemplatives, that to this life may come, hear now some crumbs[1] of the clean love, of the noble love, and of the high love of the free souls, and how the Holy Ghost hath his sail in his ship.

She runs her tongue over her teeth as she walks out the door, and feels an edge, something needing to be filed down before she bites her tongue. Dentist. Manicure. Makeup. Hair salon. She tastes blood, swallows it, pops a mint into her mouth. Small repairs. There's no woman alive who hasn't found the occasional hole in heaven, and carefully, meticulously, covered it back up.

But I ask you, wouldn't it be worse if I were perfect ? My imperfections make me less mournable.

Quiet. My body melted heavily into the chair; I heard a cart go up the street. The room grew suddenly big with meaning. Something was about to happen, was happening: each object in the room seemed perfect of its kind, its kind being just its one self. The moment split into Eternity and I went with it: I had neither skin nor bones, but flowed into the world, sacred along with everything else, and was lost.

If anything at all, perfection is not when there is nothing to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.

My mom doesn't know what it's like to be less than perfect, how people zoom in on that until it's all they see. Maybe because it weirds them out...or maybe because it makes them feel better about themselves. People do pretty ugly things to make themselves feel better, this I do know.

A man should choose a wife with a careful eye to his own personal gratification, in the same way that he chooses horses or wine--perfection or nothing. And the woman? The woman has really no right of choice, she must mate wherever she has the chance of being properly maintained. A man is always a man--a woman is only a man's appendage, and without beauty she cannot put forth any just claim to his admiration or support.